


Platform 9 and 3/4

by SherlockMalfoy



Series: Sherlock!Wizardverse Drabbles - General [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Children, First Years, Fluff, Hogwarts Express, M/M, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:59:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockMalfoy/pseuds/SherlockMalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three generations of parents bidding their children off to Hogwarts for the first time.<br/>Draco and Harry, then John and Sherlock, then the rest of the Watson-Holmes brats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Platform 9 and 3/4

He stood on the platform, his elder brother just a few feet away. Scorpius, or rather, Mycroft as his associates called him, was Head Boy this year. Not surprising.  
      Severus stood, letting his mummy straighten his robes and chatter at him about how wonderful it is that he was off to his first year at Hogwarts. Severus had tuned him out halfway through a reminder to not go into the Forbidden Forest. And that he shouldn’t go looking for trouble.  
      He hardly noticed when his father clapped a hand on his shoulder and looked down at him with mirrored silver eyes. “Do not blow up the potions lab.”  
      ”Yes father,” Severus said evenly.  
      ”Don’t antagonize a hippogriff.”  
      ”Yes father.”  
      ”Eat.”  
      “Eating is boring.”  
      ”We don’t want you coming home looking like a stick,” Draco said, then spoke up a bit louder so his elder son could hear him. “Scorpius, make sure your brother eats.”  
      “Of course, father,” came the drawled response.  
      ”And cake is not a sufficient food grouping.”  
      Harry sighed and rolled his eyes behind his spectacles before kneeling down to his son’s height again and speaking so only the boy could hear him. “If you get caught sneaking about the castle after curfew, let me know. I’ll send along my invisibility cloak.”  
      Severus’s impassive face gave just the hint of a smile.  
      “And don’t tell your father, but I’ll send you some of those muggle science books you like too.”  
      The boy’s eyes went wide before he threw his thin arms around Harry’s neck in a rare display of sentiment.  
      The train whistled, and Harry pulled the boy’s arms off his neck. “Well, you’d best be getting on now. And write us as soon as you can.”  
      Severus was hurried onto the train by his elder brother and deposited into a compartment. He was told to sit and behave while Scorpius went to meet with the prefects and take care of some business.  
      By the time he came back Severus had locked himself in the compartment, was sprawled across the seat with his fingers steepled beneath his chin. His eyes were closed, and he looked so peaceful.  
      Scorpius banged on the door. By the time he managed to unlock the poor thing his brother still hadn’t moved. “Go away Mycroft,” he said, feeling rather put out. “I’m trying to think.”  
                                                 **o0o**  
      Many years later, Sherlock was standing again at the platform for the Hogwarts Express. Only this time, he was not the one boarding the dreadful old magical train. And he was quite bored.  
      ”Now remember what we taught you,” John said as he smoothed out his only daughter’s hair. “Don’t deduce your professors to tears. Or the other students.”  
      ”Yes dad,” she intoned.  
      ”And keep your brother out of trouble. Just because something is mysterious doesn’t mean it’s his job to go gallivanting around the castle to sort it out.” He paused, then smiled, knowing his husband’s propensity to get himself in trouble. And that it had seemed to be a family trait… “At least, not by himself.”  
      “Yes dad,” she repeated as he used a tissue to wipe at the invisible dirt on her cheek.  
      “And make sure you eat. I know you think eating is boring. And sleeping, too. But it’s very important that you eat and sleep. It keeps your mind sharp and-“  
      ”John, let the child get onto the train. We’re going to be late, and so is she.”  
      The doctor sighed and stood up straight. “You text us if there’s any trouble. And don’t-“  
      _“John,”_ came his husband’s bored voice. “Train. School. _Case_.”  
      ”Right,” he said with a sigh. The girl smiled and gave her dad, then her father a hug before boarding the train.  
      ”They grow up so fast,” John said with a sigh. “I almost don’t want them to go.”  
      “They need further education,” Sherlock said, then added as if an afterthought. “We have a spare child if you feel the need to nurture something when we get home.”  
      The muggle smirked as the train gave a final whistle before starting to pull out of the station. “You are the perfect example of motherly love,” John teased as Sherlock turned on his heel and buried his nose in his phone so that he could ignore further sarcasm.  
                                                  **o0o**  
      Six years later, John and Sherlock stood in the exact same spot. Their eldest children already on the train for their last year at Hogwarts. And their middle child was the one subject to the embarrassing farewell to school.  
      John, again, was smoothing down his child’s collar. “Now Hamish,” he started. “Keep your sharp tongue to yourself. We don’t want any angry letters sent home for at least a month. Do not berate the headmaster. Do not upset your professors. And for the love of God don’t attempt to summon the forces of darkness to do your bidding.”  
      “Dad, that was an experiment.”  
      “I don’t care,” John said sternly. “Do not conduct experiments with the forces of darkness. You nearly gave your grandparents a stroke last January. Now your gran has to sleep with the lights on because he’s still having nightmares about Voldemort returning, again.”  
      The boy looked down at his shoes. “I said I was sorry,” he said softly.  
      Sherlock sighed and busied himself with silently deducing everyone that came within a five foot radius of them.  
      The porter gave a final call. “Now go on,” John said. The boy was glad to be dismissed and ran like hell for the train, his dad calling after him, “And don’t forget to eat and sleep young man!”  
                                                **o0o**  
      Six years more. And once again, Sherlock and John were in that same exact spot at Platform 9 and 3/4. Standing beside the Hogwarts Express. Their elder son was already on the train, having just barely escaped the ritualistic pre-school lecture at the station.  
      Now, a tiny little blond boy, looking more like five than eleven, was standing impatiently before his parents.  
      “You are to write to me every week.”  
      “Yes father.”  
      “And you are to tell me every detail.”  
      “Yes father.”  
      “And you are to get plenty of rest. You tire easily.”  
      ”Yes father.”  
      ”You are not to try out for Quidditch. I do not care if they tell you that you are a natural. I do not care if they tell you that you are the ideal size and weight for a Seeker. You are to focus on your studies only. Is that understood?”  
      “Yes father.”  
      The entire time he spoke, Sherlock was straightening his youngest child’s hair. His robes. And his shirt collar beneath them. And tying the boy’s shoes. And wiping the imaginary dust off of his cheeks. And then checking his pulse. And using the back of his hand against the child’s forehead and cheeks, his temperature.  
      ”Hmm… Cheeks flushed. Sudden warmth. Are you feeling nauseous? Are you-“  
      “Father!” the boy whined.  
      John was grinning from ear to ear in utter amusement. For once, he wasn’t the one embarrassing their child. “Sherlock, honestly. Just let the boy get on the train.”  
      ”John, our child is feeling ill. We must take him home and-“  
      ”He’s not ill, love. You’re embarrassing him. Now come on. I’m sure we can find some nice thumbs or something at St. Barts that you can play with.”  
      ”John-“  
      The train gave a whistle. The boy looked from his dad to his father, giving a pleading look. John chuckled. “Go on, kid. I’ll make sure your father doesn’t sneak on the train with you.”  
      Little Angelo took off at a run, nearly tripping over his own feet to flee onto the train.  
      John had to physically restrain his husband when the boy stumbled. Finally, when the train pulled away, Sherlock sighed. “Well, that’s the last one,” he said, a note of dejection in his voice. “We’re old.”  
      ”I’ll buy you a puppy.”  
      ”I don’t want a puppy.”  
      ”Sherlock, I won’t have you kidnapping random children off the street just so you can inflict your late-in-life motherly instincts upon them. We’re getting you a puppy.”  
      The argument continued all the way back into King’s Cross.  
      By the time John and Sherlock arrived home, they had a new pet. The bulldog was promptly named Gladstone. And he learned quickly to be afraid of the word “experiment”.  
                                                      **o0o**  
      Quite a many years later, Harriet Holmes-Weasley and her husband Rowan were standing right where Sherlock and John always had. A handful of strawberry-blond children, and one pale and dark haired child (her father’s recessive genes were at play in little Yorrick), were crowded around her and her husband. They were all talking at once. And, like any branch of the Weasley clan, there was no sign of that stopping any time soon. Add the harsh tongues of the Holmeses… Well… Those were some rather mean little Weasleys. Unless of course they counted you a friend. Then they were just a bit rude and socially inept.  
      Not too far away stood the uncles of that strange little group of loud children.  
      And a little firstie.  
      ”Charlotte?”  
      ”Yes father?” the little dark haired girl asked, rather politely and formal. But that was just their way.  
      ”If possible, avoid your cousins.”  
      “I doubt I’ll be sorted into their house, father. After all… They’re Gryffindors. Except for Yorrick.”  
      ”Hm…” Hamish said, giving a small nod. “Good point. He’s a Slytherin. You’ll find him very useful.”  
      The blond man beside him rolled his eyes with a groan. “Hal, don’t start. Charlotte, sweetie.” The girl turned to her uncle, blinking at him. “You can play with anyone you want. Don’t listen to your stuffy father. He’s still just bitter that he didn’t have any friends in school.”  
      ”Who needs friends when you have books? And knowledge? And, might I add, a higher intelligence than anyone around you?”  
      Angelo huffed and patted his niece on the shoulder. “Keep your darling cousins in line, will you?”  
      She nodded and gave him a hug before running off to join them.  
      ”She likes you better,” Hamish commented with a frown. “She’s mine, and she likes you better.”  
      Angelo smirked. “Don’t pout brother. We’ll get you a puppy on the way home.”  
      He scoffed, watching as his nieces and nephews and daughter boarded the train bound for Scotland. “I don’t need a puppy when I’ve got a werewolf. No, what I need is a fresh corpse,” he huffed a bit too loudly, causing a nearby parent to stare at him strangely and give them a wide berth.


End file.
